


In the Morning (Just We Two)

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: “It’s your birthday isn’t it?” Rukia asks, lifting herself up so she is resting, propped on her arms on his chest. She purses her lips, and her eyebrows draw down. He can almost see her counting off the days in her mind. “July 15th right? I worked it out - today is the 15th of July in thegenseiand you are now officially nineteen.”





	In the Morning (Just We Two)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2016 as a late birthday present for Ichigo, and the hell chat, who, according to my tags on tumblr, were extra thirsty that day.

There are an awful lot of things in his life that Ichigo doesn’t understand. Including, but not limited to, how exactly he managed to get Rukia Kuchiki into his bed – and by extension, how he managed to keep her there. How he got to be so lucky, he’ll never know. Even Byakuya tolerates their ‘arrangement’ with little more than the occasional threat of murder and dismemberment. **  
**

She hadn’t always stayed – in the beginning; she’d been more circumspect and had always left well before the morning light. It’s morning now, and even though the chance of getting across the Gotei grounds unseen is getting slimmer by the minute, Ichigo can’t bear to wake her. She’s sleeping on his chest, the fingers of one hand curled over his shoulder, breath whispering across his skin.

Rukia sleeps, perhaps unsurprisingly, like the dead. She curls into his side and stays there, like a little furnace, all night. For someone whose power derives from entropy and the upending of the principles of physics, she runs markedly hot while she’s sleeping. Ichigo often wakes up feeling like he’s sleeping next to the sun.

She stirs, and he’s rewarded for not waking her with that sleepy, sloe-eyed, half-smile she only wears before she’s properly awake. “Good morning,” he says, and Rukia’s smile curves deeper.

“Happy birthday,” she says, voice sleep-husked and Ichigo starts.

“I - what?”

It’s the beginning of spring in the  _seireitei_ , the cherry blossoms aren’t even budding yet. Ichigo knows time passes differently here than it does in the living world, but it  _can’t_  be his birthday yet. He tries to do the math in his head, but gets caught on keeping track of which world moves faster and settles instead on wrapping his arms around her, letting his fingers linger in the dimples at the base of her spine, while his thumbs curve down around her hips.

“It’s your birthday isn’t it?” Rukia asks, lifting herself up so she is resting, propped on her arms on his chest. She purses her lips, and her eyebrows draw down. He can almost see her counting off the days in her mind. “July 15th right? I worked it out - today is the 15th of July in the  _gensei_  and you are now officially nineteen.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ichigo agrees, “but –”

“But nothing,” Rukia interrupts, and then her smile turns sharp-edged and she slides down his body. His traitorous body that has also realised it’s morning and that a naked Rukia is lying on top of him.

“Wait,” Ichigo says, reaching for her. “Rukia you don’t –”

“Oh,” she answers, coming to rest between his thighs, “but I  _want._ ” She eyes him hungrily and licks her lips. Ichigo’s hands fist compulsively in the sheets.She takes him into her mouth without preamble, hollows out her cheeks and  _sucks_  and Ichigo feels his toes curl.

Her mouth is wet hot around him and Ichigo’s hips buck without his permission. Rukia’s eyes flick up to meet his and he groans at the promises that curl and smoke behind her gaze. She swallows him down and Ichigo fights the urge to arch under the sweep of her tongue and chokes on the moan that he clenches his jaw to keep from escaping.

She lifts off him with a pop, and Ichigo groans.

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, and hates himself for it immediately.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Rukia says, and draws her hair back over her shoulder, then leans down again. She doesn’t draw it out - and Ichigo doesn’t have a hope in hell of holding out. She’s all tongue and lips and wet heat. The scrape of her teeth against him sets his own teeth on edge, and he can’t get enough air. His breath whistles through his clenched teeth and he arches when she swirls her tongue around him just so. One of his hands lands in her hair, and his fingers clench around the strands reflexively.

“God Rukia,” Ichigo groans. The rush of sensation is almost too much - her mouth works in tandem with her hands and he hates (no, he loves it, and he knows she loves it too, he can feel the clench and grip of her fingers change every time) the way his voice sounds completely wrecked when the moans he can’t choke down slip out from behind his teeth. Rukia hums around him and the vibration of her voice undoes him. His climax thunders through him and leaves him breathless and completely spent.

Rukia wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and then crawls back up the length of his body to drape herself across his chest once more.

“We should – we should get up,” Ichigo says eventually, and Rukia hums agreeably. Neither of them move.


End file.
